filth
by La Salle De Bain
Summary: oneshot. aizen decides to take matters into his own hands. aizen/orihime. non-con. for chibilaryla.


**filth // a bleach one-shot  
for the spankin' chibilaryla **

**A/N**: ChibiLaryla and I have been buds for maybe six years now…so I wrote her this fic! Couple and scenario chosen by her, pretty much. Wrote this while watching _Family Guy_ one night, ahaha. First fan fiction I've thrown together in months, as well as (one of) my first hetero smut fics, actually. Hope you like it, Ashley!  
**Warnings**: Aizen/Orihime,non-con/_rappppe_ (notgonnalie). This is for an older audience—!! Not my usual crack fan fiction. :')

* * *

"Don't move."

Aizen smiled. The long-haired girl across the room shivered. This man could see through anyone to the core. He knew how to break people…which made him quite the fitting antagonist for Orihime and her comrades. And, to make matters worse, she was an easy target. A confused young woman with an fragile spirit was child's play…and he wanted to ensure ultimate humiliation.

"What are you doing?" Orihime whispered. Her eyes were wide as Aizen slowly walked to her. She was on the floor, and he knelt down to caress her cheek. His calloused fingers brushed lightly against her quivering lips. He closed the space between them slightly. One bad move on Orihime's part and they would be meeting in a kiss.

Her mouth was agape, and she remained completely still. It was like dealing with some sort of wild animal. She could see her reflection on his glasses, and the mere sight of her terrified face disgusted her. She closed her eyes.

"Oh?" Aizen cooed. "You're giving in already? I know I..._politely _suggested that you stay still, by you don't have much spunk, do you? I quite enjoy a challenge; you weren't even too difficult to capture…" His hand ran down her back. He fiddled with her bra hook through her thin shirt.

Orihime clenched her teeth. Her sweaty hands turned to fists, but she didn't dare raise them. Aizen would show no mercy…he was a despicable man.

Aizen slowly removed his glasses without distancing himself. "If you don't have any fight in you…" He really wanted to get a reaction out of her, but she did nothing in response. Her eyes remained shut, her expression troubled.

"Or…" Orihime could feel his lips curl into a smirk. "…are you pretending I'm Ichigo Kurosaki?"

Orihime unintentionally shuddered. Aizen, obviously pleased, let out a chuckle.

"So be it…"

He kissed her. Orihime froze, her eyes darting open. She couldn't move. She tried to free herself, but one of Aizen's hands pinned both of her arms to the wall over her head. The other held her jaw, kneading circles under her chin. Orihime struggled, keeping her mouth closed tight, even attempting to kick him. It felt like all the energy in her body was literally being sucked out of her.

Aizen kept a firm grip on her wrists, still kissing her. He worked his other hand up her shirt, tearing the cloth. The buttons on her blouse snapped off, and the sound of them falling to the marble floor stung and pierced her ears. It seemed like her senses were heightened. She saw every line on Aizen's face. Every part of her that he was touching—her tongue, her breasts, her wrists—burnt. She could hear her friends scurrying in the hallway over, calling her name, through the wall she was being pressed against. She could smell Aizen's natural body scent—the one Hinamori went crazy for (she wondered at the back of her mind if this had ever happened to Hinamori…but she doubted she'd ever not be willing). And she could taste his lust and need of power.

Orihime' top half was fully exposed. Her shirt hung loosely from her shoulders. Aizen kissed down her neck, across her collarbone. Her whole body felt ice cold. He slid a hand from her breasts to under her skirt. He probed at her opening through her panties, causing Orihime to lurch up and let out a soft cry.

"So you're sensitive here?" Aizen asked. He was mocking her. "It's the only part of you giving off any heat. Interesting…" He lowered his head, sliding off the skirt. With a tongue out, he gradually dipped his head. The sadistic look in his eyes terrified the girl.

Without controlling herself, she kneed him in the chin. She wasn't sure where the power came from, but Aizen didn't take to it kindly. He rubbed the blood from his lips, and punched Orihime square in the stomach. She shrieked and coughed up blood, not able to wipe herself up because of Aizen's still strong grasp on her arms.

"Now, now…" Aizen said softly. "Glad there's some fight left in you, but let's not mess up the foreplay."

He licked a dribble of blood from her mouth, taking her undergarments off swiftly. He ran a finger down the outside of her vagina, watching her expression change from pain to horror.

"Wow, you're ready," he chuckled. "You should be ashamed, young lady. But the body wants what the body wants." His erect penis was visible through his yukata, and he brought it out. "You're throbbing down there, you know that? I'll make sure your first time is a memorable one."

Without warning, Aizen forced himself in. Orihime screamed. Aizen just covered her mouth and muffled her cries.

"Sh…_shit_," Aizen winced. His breathing was suddenly heavy.

He moved.

He went in and out, thrusting himself deep inside of her. Every time he pounded into her, she let out a soft groan. Aizen's eyebrows were furrowed, his face dripping with sweat. He let go of her mouth and dug his nails into one of her hips. He propped her up, thoroughly fucking her. The room was only filled with the revolting, sloshing sound of nonconsensual sex, Aizen's grunts, and Orihime's hushed cries.

He let go of her arms, using both hands to cling to her hips, adding to the friction. He moved faster. Orihime gave out a blood-curdling scream, her whole body on fire. She clawed at his face, his stomach, his arms, his back—anything to make him give up and release her. He continued ravaging her, his cock ripping through her tight walls. Blood was drawn, but that didn't stop him.

The pit of Orihime's stomach was on fire. She immediately felt indignity. She could physically feel her pride and innocence being taken away from her, with every deep twinge of pain this man brought. Aizen was in such an embarrassing state, desperately entering her in an attempt to obtain pleasure. Maybe, in this situation, the vital form of pleasure would be knowing he took away one of the last things she had to offer to the one she loved.

Orihime repeated the same sentence in her head to calm herself down, as if saying a mantra.

_Hedoesn'tloveme. Hedoesn'tloveme. Hedoesn'tloveme. Hedoesn'tloveme._

Aizen suddenly moaned loudly, giving one final thrust and locking into place. She herself was sent into spasms, stopping only after feeling Aizen's cock pulsate within her. She was filled with his seed. Orihime gasped as she felt a liquid warmth burst on her insides.

Aizen pulled himself out, panting. Orihime fell to her side, mouth oozing blood and saliva. She was tramautized. Drops of semen trickled from her opening, her inner thigh covered in blood. Bruises were already forming on her wrists and hips.

Aizen stood up, slipping his glasses back on. He looked at Orihime on the floor with a sickened gaze, her chest heaving, her skin pale. He spat in her face, then headed toward the exit.

"You're scum."

The End.


End file.
